All Falls Down
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: Nanoha will always be second-best. /Post-A's; What If/


**Disclaimer:** All characters and locations belong to their respective owners.

_A/N: I don't think this type of theme has been done before in the fandom, at least when it's applied to Nanoha the character. Can you imagine what it would be like if this did happen? I bet you she wouldn't be the same girl we've come to know and love, not unless she got over it but was still inflicted with the psychological trauma left behind._

_But, uh, this piece is somewhat experimental. I didn't want it to be too long, and that was what I had in mind. I _was_ going to continue this further by making Vita more prominent than just saving Nanoha from imminent death, but then I wondered how I was going to make that work without making the story appear too forced and drawn out so I deleted that scene from the last scene. I'm not proud of the roadblock I had to endure while writing this, because I wanted to get this out WEEKS AGO and it just too long for my liking. But I think I did a good job of this, though I will apologize if the end seems rushed and otherwise incomplete._

_I've had thoughts to continue _"All Falls Down" _in a series of one-shots to reflect Nanoha's journey, but at the time I am currently undecided and busy outside my writing life. Leave an opinion if you want to (or not), it doesn't matter._

* * *

**All Falls Down**

_

* * *

_

_Ring around the rosey…  
__A pocket full of posies…  
__Ashes…  
__Ashes…  
__We all fall down…._

This is the start of the eternal winter. Nanoha doesn't know it, isn't aware of the implications that will follow her for the rest of her mortal life.

Around her the world is slowly deconstructing. There is a clash of metal, loud and high and ear-rupturing keening; there was a constant shift in the air as it was displaced and wrung inside out like a heavy, wet rag draining water; feet punched through hard-packed snow and tore through fallen stone pillars and metal barricades hastily erected and smelted together—

And here is Nanoha Takamachi, twelve-years-old and detached from waking reality. Here is she, twelve-years-old and lying in the snow, watching the pretty white snowflakes make their descent from bruised grey clouds.

She is tired, so very tired. There is the sudden urge to close her eyes and go to sleep (GO TO SLEEP), and Nanoha doesn't know how she got so tired, so very, very tired.

_Ring – around – the rosey…_

"Nanoha! NANOHA!" What is that? What is this sound she hears? It's quiet, but it vibrates, bounces up and down her skull with each spoken syllable. "Oh dear Gods, NANOHA!"

What do you want from me? she wants to ask. What do you want—?

_A pocket – full – of posies…_

"Stay with me, Nanoha! You've got to stay with me!" Something presses against her chest and pushes, pushes, pushes, an intruder demanding entrance into uninvited territory. There is so much pushing, Nanoha wants to sit up and sway away whatever is disturbing her peace.

Leave me alone, she wants to say. Can't you see I want to be left alone?

And suddenly, warmth fills her up and spreads outward, wet and thick and coppery.

"No, no, NO! Don't do this to me, Nanoha! Don't you _dare_—!"

_Ashes…_

Please, just go away. Go—

_Ashes…_

"…getting you…from here! I won't…you…die! Just hang…in there…!"

Frost gathers on the canopy of Nanoha's lashes. Her stare remains wide, unblinking, absorbing the dreary overcast that is melting and losing color and sustenance and why can't I move my body why don't they listen why why why—

She cannot hope to keep her eyes open. She cannot hope to fight the muddied obscurity beckoning to carry her away where no one can find her, where none but Gods and Nature are her sole, loyal companions.

So she gives herself to the weight of universes innumerable, in hopes she too can walk with the unseen and cross unmarked dimensions.

"Nanoha? Nanoha…?"

The world holds its breath, waiting. Snow comes down from the heavens, covering the land in blessed, mute ivory.

_We all fall down…._

* * *

Ahhh, so beautiful, how a heart beats in tandem with the shell of a body….

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…._

Can you hear it? Can you feel it? Listen, Nanoha. Stop and listen.

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…._

Listen, Nanoha. Breathe deep and vanquish all thought. Submerge yourself in cold, weightless black.

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…_

_Ba-thump…._

There you go. Good girl. Now, close your eyes and forget.

_Ba-thump—_

That's right. Forget everything you know.

_Ba-thump—_

Forget the bonds you've forged.

_Ba-thump—_

Forget the memories you've created.

_Ba-thumpba-thump—_

Forget all you have said, all you have touched.

_Ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump—_

Forsake all your senses, your knowledge, the heat pulsing and throbbing in your fingertips and your toes and just _relax_.

Yes. Yes, just like that. Very good. You are a natural at this.

_Ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump—_

Come on. Don't stop now. Keep going.

**_yOU'Re ALmosT tHeRE…._**

BA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMP—

"What's wrong with her what's wrong with Nanoha—"

"She's losing too much blood—"

"She's seizing up—"

"It's my fault all my fault—"

"The restraints she's breaking the restraints—"

"Don't die Nanoha don't die Nanoha don't die don't—"

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

DON'T YOU WANT TO SEE THE PRETTY LITTLE SNOWFLAKES?

COME BACK.

YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY.

DON'T IGNORE ME.

COME BACK HERE.

YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE SNOW.

NANOHA. NANOHA—

* * *

"How are you feeling, Nanoha?" asks Shamal as she eases the door shut behind her.

"I feel fine," says Nanoha stiltedly. "Sort of. I still have trouble moving around with the walker, but I manage to get around when the incentive's there. Though I admit, it doesn't seem like I'm making much progress."

Shamal taps her pen against the clipboard she is holding. "One day at a time, Nanoha. Your body has yet to recuperate from the stress during the operation. It'll be a long while before I can safely say you are able to walk on your own without the use of mobility aids."

"You told me the same thing three weeks ago, Shamal. Besides, I've walked by myself a couple times down the halls."

"Yes, but you had someone else to assist you, like Fate and Vita. Taking those few steps is only the beginning of the recovery process."

"But I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing but reading and sleeping," the young mage bemoans to the doctor. "I want to get out of this room, this place. I want to go back to school and continue my training on Mid-Childa." She gives the blonde a pointed look. "Shamal, I want to _fly_. I want to be in the sky and not come back down for a long, _long_ time. How many more sessions of therapy do I have to do before I'm _actually_ up and moving again?"

A dip at the corners of lips."It could take months – maybe even a year – before you can return to the academy. It depends on how often you participate in physical therapy _and_ following my instructions to the letter."

"_Which_ I have been doing. Maybe not to your expectations, but I have, haven't I?"

"…Yes. Yes, you have. It's all right here in your records…which brings me to why I am here. Do you recall the day before you underwent your previous operation?"

A hand to the temple. "I…I think so. It's fuzzy…but it's there, barely. I think it had something to do with my Linker Core, correct?"

Shamal nods. "You are correct. The results just came in today."

"How is it?" The Belkan Knight doesn't respond; instead her eyes slide away to the wall, as if there is something much more interesting about it than her question. "Shamal? How is my Linker Core?"

"Nanoha…while we were performing the operation…we found something…that should not have been there. It was a shard of steel that a deconstruction report revealed to have come from the drones you encountered on your last mission. We tried to extract it, but the attempt was too risky, too much of a gamble to wager without further damaging the Core."

Nanoha can scarcely breathe, but she manages to force out with a slight stutter, "What…What are you trying to tell me, Shamal? I don't understand…."

"It means that while your physical injuries will heal over time your Linker Core will not, while you will most certainly be able to walk again your mana will not regenerate. In short, the shard in your Linker Core has permanently stunted your magical growth. You will never use magic that is too expendable to the point which will put a strain on your body and Core. And," she swallows thickly, "it pains me to say this, Nanoha, but…with the shard being so close to puncturing the Core, you will never be able to fly again."

This is the part when a silence as deep as snow and hard as ice falls like a dead weight on her and the world as a whole cease to exist. This is the part where Nanoha Takamachi stops listening, breathes her last, and collapses into the headrest.

This isn't happening.

This can't be happening.

It's a dream. It has to be. I'll just wake up and everything will go back to the way they were.

Everything will be fine.

Everything will be A-okay.

It'll all be over before you know it.

Just wake up.

Wake up.

_Wake up_.

Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.

_Why won't you wake up…?_

(When a person wants to die, a window must be opened to let the spirit escape its shell and be free to roam the untold boundaries no living man shall ever behold.

(And while Nanoha wishes with all her heart to get out of bed and jump through the portal into an oblivion consumed by deafening winds, she can't find the strength to stem the tide springing from her eyes, or reach up and push Shamal's warm chest and gentle arms off her being, or scream Belkan obscenities she's heard Vita spout during their training sessions, or curl up in a ball and pray to whatever God that isn't laughing this is a cruel joke, a horrible nightmare, a mistake meant for someone else to hear….)

But this is real, so very, very real; and no matter how much she denies it, how hard she tries to stir her consciousness from its dumb stupor, how badly she wishes she could turn back time and erase this _impostor _from existence, this is one dream she will not be waking from.

* * *

And so she sits, alone, in a room devoid of radiance. The blinds are closed and the curtains drawn, splashing pallid ambiance along the sharp corners in the walls and the irregular curve of the hospital bed's metal legs. It's cold in here, dreadfully cold (LIKE A WINTER STORM THAT IS NEVER FAR FROM HOME), but Nanoha doesn't mind. In the days since she's learned of her newfound disability, she sits – knees against a developing chest and arms wrapped as in embracing a stiff carcass setting into rigor mortis -and stares at space consuming everything and nothing, occupying anywhere and nowhere, her gaze polished with a dull and unfocused glaze.

It's the look in a child who has dropped off the face of the earth and cannot find her way back up the steepest slope. There are no niches to grab on to, not a fine line of loose sediment to disperse and squeeze too slender fingers among the spider-thin cracks.

If there's one thing Nanoha is good at, it's running (and flying, but she can't do that anymore - Icarus flew too close to the sun and drowned in the sea; Nanoha braved the evading alien masses and almost punctures her Linker Core in the process). Running away seems much easier to do than running forward. Why confront the future when you can live in the past, float among memories that at a backwards glance appears almost imaginary, ephemeral, nonexistent? Why bother with the present if it only hurts you in the end?

She doesn't want to go out into the world. The world doesn't need her, now that her wings have been brutally ripped from her body. No, of course not. No one would want a lame, sitting duck, not a bird that has gone the way of the dodo.

And to think, a sliver of metal brought her hopes and dreams crashing down, just like that.

She doesn't want to see the world. No more does she want to behold the firmament and its clustered stars and fragmented constellations. No more does she want to lose herself in deep, infinite blue and fly among the geese and the wayward seagulls.

If this is what it means to be demarcated from the rest of her peers - younglings like Fate and Hayate and Yuuno who will graduate from the academy with (Nanoha flinches, a bitter taste of bile creeping on the tongue) _flying_ colors and grow up to become the lucky mages who will have numerous titles, medals, and respect to their names in the history books – then Nanoha would go the extra mile to sever all ties to the magical world and any outside influences that dare to shape and mold this slip of a girl into what the future demands her to be.

She will never join her comrades amidst the frontlines; will never get the chance to recreate the majesty of Divine Buster or the glorious anarchy that is Starlight Breaker. She will never feel the same with the alien shard forever trapped in the tangled web of a cracked Linker Core, will never understand _why_ it had to be _her_ who's been handed the short end of the rope and _why_ it had to be this way and whywhywhy for the love of all that is holy and merciful why can't she have this one opportunity to go back in time and _unmake_ the universe.

(Because you can't; what becomes the present becomes the past is paved a road to a future reserved for second-best.

(And Nanoha will always be second-best.)


End file.
